


Ducky One-Shots

by OwlSong74



Category: Disney Duck Universe, Disney Ducks (Comics)
Genre: (but nothing gory), Blood, Bugs & Insects, F/F, M/M, Vampires, cw for story 3:, cw for story 6:
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2019-10-14 19:46:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17514827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlSong74/pseuds/OwlSong74
Summary: One-shots, short stories, drabbles, etc for the disney duckverse. currently comic-centric but may somepoint have d17 or maybe dwd. warnings will be updated as things are added. WAK! (¨<





	1. A Pancake-Sweet Morning (donald/gyro)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> started partly by an observation by ao3's @tomorrowsthe16th : “donro appeal is them being weirdly intimate and insisting it’s platonic because they don’t actually talk about their relationship or any feelings like that… These two could essentially wake up snuggled next to each other and not blink an eye about”
> 
> besides just agreeing with the statement, the image of the “two waking up snuggled next to each other” was, uh, too cute to not write?
> 
> originally posted on tumblr

Donald woke up. He was on the floor in his living room, in front of the television. There was a pillow a few feet away from his head, a blanket tangled over, under, and around him, and a remote and a bag of chips on the couch from last night’s _Star Top_ marathon.

More immediately important, though, was the arm wrapped around him and it’s owner, who was practically laying on top of him. Gyro was still asleep, which was fine. He was warm, and Donald wasn’t ready to get up quite yet. Instead, he shifted slightly to face his friend and snuggled into the tall chicken’s shoulder, brushing the side of his face into his fuzzy pajamas. One of his arms was caught beneath Gyro, but he used the other one to reach around and hug him. Donald closed his eyes again, and listened to Gyro breathe. _Good_.

Several minutes later, or maybe an hour, Gyro budged. He shifted slightly, and moved his head to look down towards the duck at his shoulder. Donald opened his eyes again and looked back towards his friend and whispered “good morning”. Gyro smiled, which made Donald, who was already content, feel his chest rise and his smile grow about twice as large. He could kiss him. He moved his free arm from Gyro’s back to his head, and put his hand through his hair.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, but an unfortunate realization came to Donald. “The kids are going to be up soon,” he said quietly, “and I promised them pancakes.”

Gryo rolled away (Donald immediately regretted saying anything), sat up and stretched, yawned, and smiled at him: “Well I wouldn’t want to delay Saturday morning pancakes!” Donald sat up as well. “I have something to work on back home anyway.”

“No, no! You’re not delaying anything.” Donald put a hand on one of Gyro’s shoulders and gestured towards the kitchen. “Stay for pancakes, wontcha?”

“I–”

“I insist!”

Gyro laughed and pet Donald’s head. “Alright, I will!”

“Yeah!” Donald got up and flashed towards the kitchen. A second later, he popped back into the living room, an aperon tied over his white-and-pink striped PJs. “Chocolate chips or blueberries? And what will Little Helper have?”

“Chocolate chips! And a double A, if you have one,” Gyro responded, and the duck was gone again. Gyro continued smiling towards the doorway as he listened to the sounds coming from the kitchen. _Good._


	2. PK is tired (pk/gyro)

3 AM, Gyro’s workshop home 

Gyro looked at his notepad. Did a calculation. Wrote down the result. Took a long sip from his tea, emptying the mug. Went back to the notepad. Did a calculation. Went to write down the result, but realized it was already there. He took a deep breath, circled the result and underlined it twice, before a disapproving buzz made him look up. Little Helper had written BED! on a scrap of paper on the corner of the desk, and was now standing with their back against the wall, arms crossed, leg crossed, shaking their head.    


“I told Miss. Silenton I’d have the library’s automatic book sorter done by this morning, and you know that!” The two stared at each other for a few moments before the little light bulb on legs sighed, walked to Gyro’s empty mug, and made a questioning noise. “Yes, please,” Gyro said, and Little Helper carried the mug into the other room.  Looking back at his notepad, Gyro noticed that he had in fact written the result down a full 3 times. Maybe Little Helper was right. He was about to call them back from the kitchen when someone knocked at the door. Gyro immediately felt a bit more awake, and much less frustrated. There was generally only one person who called at this time of night.

 

Sure enough, when he opened the door, the Duck Avenger answered. However he clearly wasn’t up for a chat. His eyes were mostly closed, one of them puffed up. His costume was roughed up, with tears and dirty blotches. He wore no shoes and was instead carrying his boots. “Hi Gyro. Saw your light in the window. Hope I didn’t wake you up.” 

“No, of course, come in! I’ve just been working on a book-sorter for the library. It’ll use RFID to automatically sort and order the books that get returned,” Gyro ushered in and waved towards the machine. Then he shook his head and turned towards his friend, “but what can I do for you? What happened? Do you need something for your eye? Here—take a seat.” Gyro lead the Avenger to his couch and made him sit, and he took the boots from him. 

“I’m fine. Tired.” 

Gyro looked at the boots. “Are they broken?” 

The Avenger nodded. “Just.. When you can.” 

Gyro nodded. He placed the boots on his desk, pushing the papers for the book-sorter to the side. “Little Helper’s in the kitchen making tea. I’ll go get him and something for your eye.” 

In the kitchen, Little Helper, sitting by the tea kettle, questioned him. “DA’s here.”    


_ Oh!  _ said Little Helper. And another question. 

Gyro was looking in the freezer. “His boots are broken. And he was hit in the eye.” He ended up grabbing a frozen bag of tomato sauce from last week. “You can turn off the stove. Once he’s gone I’m going to bed. You were right.” 

_ Oh? _  Little Helper buzzed, pleased with themself. They turned off the stove, jumped to the floor, and followed Gyro back into the main room. 

“Here, friend, I brought you a--- oh,” said Gyro, walking towards the couch. The Duck Avenger was asleep, slumped over.  His feet dangled over the edge of couch. One arm was under his head and the other hung to the side, holding, Gyro noted, his mask, which he probably took off because it was bugging his eye. Poor duck. If Gyro listened close, he could hear Donald snoring lightly. Gyro handed the cold sauce to Little Helper, then picked up Donald’s legs and moved them onto the couch. Little Helper climbed the couch and lightly placed the frozen sauce on Donald’s eye. He shivered for a moment, but didn’t wake up. 

Gyro climbed the stairs to his bedroom in the attic and fetched down one of his extra blankets for Donald. Little Helper had climbed back to the desk and pointed at the “BED!” sign, then at Donald, then at themself. They made an affirmative d _ on’t worry  _ sound, and Gyro nodded. He put the blanket over Donald and kneeled down to adjust the bag of sauce on his head, ruffling his feathers a little afterward. Donald deserved sleep, after whatever he did to earn such an eye, and Gyro was happy to help. 

A buzz from the desk, and the tapping of a tiny metal foot. Gyro stood up, stretched, turned out the light, and left Little Helper and Donald behind to go to sleep. It occurred to him as he went to sleep to set an alarm so he could get Donald back home before Huey, Dewey, and Louie noticed he was missing. He’d go back to sleep after that, and the librarian would just have to wait another day for the book-sorting machine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they/them pronouns for helper because why not  
> also, gyro needs more sleep


	3. Venus Fly Traps (donald/gyro)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt fulfillment. tumblr user @advisortotheadvisor asked for donro + 48 “I’m not bothering you, am I?”
> 
> cw bugs, but nothing descriptive

After a minute, Donald opened the door, holding the cricket tub in one hand. Gyro looked at it. “Hi Donald! I’m not bothering you, am I?”  
  
“No, I was just about to feed my plants, that’s all.” He smiled at Gyro and waved him in. “Have you seen them yet?”  
  
“No, I dont think so–” said Gyro, stepping into Donald’s house and closing the door behind him.  
  
“Yeah, c’mon!” Donald took Gyro’s arm and all but flew into the kitchen. He sat the cricket tub on the counter and flung his arms out towards the window above the sink.A row of pots filled the windowsill, all of them containing small venus flytraps. Gyro laughed and leaned in closer to peek at Donald’s cricket-munching greenery..  
  
“‘Scuse me!” Donald said, bumping into Gyro. He held a cricket in tweezers. “Dinner time!” Gyro stepped away and watched him drop the insect onto one of the traps on the first plant. He then quickly gave a cricket to each of the other plants.  
  
The last plant’s trap didn’t shut immediately, and the cricket bounded to freedom. Gyro jumped after it, capturing it in his hands, but he against his own feet and started falling. Donald grabbed his arm and pulled him back upright, Gyro catching himself on the kitchen counter, the cricket still safe in his other hand.  
  
“Thanks! Edgar is picky like that.” Donald helped Gyro steady himself, then grabbed the cricket with the tweezers once more and tried to feed Edgar again. This time Edgar accepted it.  
  
“Edgar?”  
  
“Yep!” Donald hopped back a step and, one foot in the air, pointed to the first plant. “Jeremy!” He hopped to the other foot and pointed to the next plant, “Kim!” He continued hopping “Jules, Mary, Alberto, and Edgar!” He took Gyro by the arm again, “Aren’t they just spiffy! It was Louie’s turn last weekend to take care of the class pet, which was one of these fly-traps, and we liked him so much that when he had to return him to class on Monday, I went to the store to pick up these fellas!”  
  
“They are neat!” Gyro said, smiling widely. He leaned towards them again. Donald leaned in to look at them too. After a moment, Gyro felt Donald give him a small kiss on his cheek.  
  
“As thanks for catching Egar’s food,” Donald said softly, “it was cute.”  
  
Gyro felt his face get red, but he still managed to pick up Donald and plant a kiss on his head. “You should see you introducing your venus fly-traps.”  
  
“Hey,” Donald said, holding in a giggle, “what did you come to bother me about anyway?”  
  
“I…” Gyro looked at him and squinted. “I forget.”


	4. Surprise (pk/gyro)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt fulfillment for tumblr user @secondhandscanlations, who asked for pkgyro + 19 “Will you just tell me the truth?”

The Duck Avenger waited impatiently outside Gyro’s door. It was freezing. The nighttime breeze biting his skin, under the suit. He wrapped his cape around him tighter and considered just popping through the window. The light was on, after all, and the Avenger had done that before. But he was also trying to be more considerate of Gyro lately, and while coming through the window was cool, it was probably also not very thoughtful.

After what seemed like an age, the door finally opened. Gyro leaned against the doorway and crossed his arms. “Hellooooo, DA!” 

“Hello, Gyro. It’s freezing…”

Gyro’s smile disappeared and he jerked up, clumsily moving out of the Duck Avenger’s way, “come in, come in! Sorry…”

“Thanks,” the Avenger smiled.

“Uh,” Gyro closed the door, then rushed ahead of the Avenger to present him a seat on the couch. “Here.” Gyro moved to the bench at desk and sat down. He crossed his legs and put his arms on the desk behind him. He smiled at the Duck Avenger again, widely and stiffly. “Sooo… what do you need, DA?”

The Duck Avenger looked at Gyro. “Well, I’m having issues with the brakes on the car while in the air….” Gyro had stayed almost statue-still, and still smiling. “But that can wait a moment. What are you working on tonight?”

“What am I working on? Oh, you know. Same-old. A gidget for Mr. McDuck, a gazmo for Daisy Duck… But let’s see about those brakes!” Gyro clapped his hands and stood up. “Wouldn’t want to hold you up for too long!”

“Well… alright,” said the Duck Avenger. He got up from the couch and started walking towards the kitchen.

The chicken zoomed ahead and stopped him. “The front’s the other way, don’t you remember?” He still had his big smile on.

The Duck Avenger looked up at him with his head and eyebrows tipped. “Yes…. I parked the car out back.”

“Ahhh…” said Gyro. He peeked at the kitchen door behind him.

“What are you up to?” the Duck Avenger said.

Gyro snapped his head back around. “Nothing much.. It’s just. The kitchen is kind of a mess right now.”

The Avenger turned his head around further… “Gyro…”

“More than usual! We were cooking dinner earlier and you know…. the pan… the sauce… it just…” he waved his hands around. “..You know? Helpers been helping me clean it up but…”

“In-between working on the ‘gidget’ and ‘gazmo’ for Scrooge and Daisy?”

“Y-yes.”

“Will you just tell me the truth? You’ve been acting all… stiff.”

“Uhm.” Gyro opened the door a tad and looked into the kitchen. The Avenger heard some buzzing sounds from inside. Gyro smiled, for real. “Well, I guess Helper was able to finish it while we’ve been out here.”

“Finish what?” the Duck Avenger smiled and crossed his arms.

“Well, you see. It’s been exactly two years since you and I, since you first asked me to help you. And I just. I thought it would be fun–”

More buzzing from the kitchen.

“Well, look,” Gyro opened the door and let the Duck Avenger in. The kitchen was indeed quite the mess. But on the table was a three-layer cake, frosted in blue. Along the side was written, in scribbly handwriting with red frosting, “DUCK AVENGER 2 YEARS!!!” Little helper was standing next to it, a tube of frosting in hir arm and frosting all over hir. Ze lifted hir arms, dropping the tube, and buzzed loudly.

For a moment the Duck Avenger was struck still, his smile widening and bringing his hands up to his bill. Then he turned and jump-hugged Gyro, making him stumble back for a moment. He buried his head in  Gyro’s vest, aware this was un-hero-like but not caring. “Thank you.”

He felt Little Helper starting to climb him. He reached down and brought hir up to his shoulder, so that ze could join in the hug. “Thank you too.”

Gyro hugged them back. “Mmmhmm”.

The Duck Avenger couldn’t remember a time he felt warmer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ze/hir pronouns for helper because why not


	5. Early Morning Call to Alaska (Daisy/Della)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this takes place in an AU I haven't posted about yet....
> 
> It's the golden age of flight, 1920s-30s, when daisy and della are younger (last couple years of high school ish). Della has more-or-less dropped high school for her job to fly, and Daisy is a reporter for uncle Gideon. The two of them go on adventures together, starting with Daisy tagging along on shipping jobs for Della, then becoming a mix of that and Della's job being to fly Daisy to places to catch a scoop or write a travel article for a magazine. They're in love.
> 
> This is currently the one story in the batch that takes notes from DT17, with Della.

“Alaska. There’s a shipment from Duckburg they want to get in before a storm reaches Fairbanks, and the guy who was originally going to fly it got sick.”

“Alaska? That’s why you called at three in the morning and nearly woke up the whole house?”

“Yeah. That’s the other thing. I’m the first one they asked who agreed to leave on such short notice. Can you come?”

Daisy sighed and looked around her family’s dark, quiet living room. She could barely see. It was cold. Her head felt heavy. She could barely think _._

“… Daize?”

“Uh, Alaska’s big. Where--?” Not that it mattered, but Daisy needed a bit more time to wake up.

“Juneau, Anchorage, Fairbanks. A few smaller towns.”

“When?”

“Taking off in three hours.”

“Fuck, Del. It’s three AM.” Daisy thought about today. What was it? _Could_ she go to Alaska in three hours? “It’s Thursday, Del, I have class today. And tomorrow.”

“Daize… are you really suggesting you’ll miss a trip to somewhere new, racing a storm, in order to sit in class and learn shit you already know?”

 _Damnit_ , Della was right! But she couldn’t miss class yet again, and she’d barely have any time to pack, learn about Fairbanks, prepare for emergencies…

“What’s the plan, exactly?”

“There’s some priority stuff going to some of the major organizations up there—the university, the larger oil and mining companies, even a couple things for the government, and they don’t want to use the regular mail because it’s slow. And the guy got sick, and I’m not, so we’ll deliver it. If we’re fast enough we’ll be able to come right back, and if not we’ll be stuck for a day or so until the weather lets up.”

“We?”

“You’re coming, aren’t you?”

“It’s three AM…” Daisy repeated. She considered. If Della went on her own and ended up being stuck for a day, she'd be alone… “Alright. Yes, I’ll come.”

“I knew you would! It’ll be exciting!”

Daisy smiled, “Just give me an hour to pack and call Unc--”

“Uncle Gid? I already did. He said he’d love for you to go, and to be sure to take some good aerials and ask around about the earthquake and whatever the American government is doing up in Fairbanks.”

“Huh?” _She called him already?_ “Why didn’t you say that earlier? That he wanted me to go?”

“Uhm… because I…” Daisy could hear the sheepishness that she’d heard many times before. _Del_ …

“Well,” Della continued, “I didn’t... I didn’t want you to come with me just for your _job_ , you know?”

Every thought in Daisy’s mind melted into gibberish. Still, she put on her best teasing voice and said, “Oh, you mean you wanted to come with you for _you_?”

Della made a sound over the phone. “ _aahhgki_ —and I mean like, Alaska, and, uh, y’know, the _adventure_ , and... _plxfx_ …the… uh.. _yeah_.”

Daisy laughed. “Did anyone ever tell you you’re cute when you’re flustered? Even at three AM over the phone?” Daisy heard her try to protest. She smiled, “It’s unfair! You’re trying to get me to ditch school for a last-minute trip to _fucking Alaska_!”

“ it…” Della laughed, “and did I succeed?”

Daisy shook her head. “Yeah, you did. See you at the airport, Del.”

“See you!”

Daisy hung up, and started going through a mental checklist of all that she needed to pack in the next half hour, before driving out to the Duckburg Airport. She had to admit, she was excited to see a corner of the world she hadn’t yet! And spending the day traveling with Della was much more enjoyable than class, no matter where they were going.


	6. Savings on Blood (scrooge/glomgold)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This came out of a 1:30 in the morning twitter thread where i was rambling only half-coherently about vampires, particularly in universes were vampires are Good and buy their blood, either real or synthetic, from blood companies. 
> 
> One of the tweets:   
> "heehee if most single vampires buy their blood.. it would be cute to have one tease their mortal S.O... "you know what the best part about feeding off of you is? it saves me money" (at which point their S.O. playfully punches them in the shoulder with a 'heeeey')"  
> I saw this tweet again later that morning when I woke up and realized...... glomscrooge
> 
> cw for vampire and blood mention, but no detailed descriptions or anything

“I don’t think you quite understand what it means to me, being able to drink your blood,” Flintheart said, moving back from Scrooge's neck.

Scrooge opened his eyes a little more, looking towards the other duck half-laying, half-sitting with him on a pile of coins in the bin, and slowly moved closer to him. “Ye-es, I do-o.”

Flintheart smiled at Scrooge, who was clearly still dazed. “McDuck, you save me a lot of money on blood.”

“Huhn?”

“You save me two whole bags per week. That’s 104 bags a year, which a non-insignificant amount of money, Scroogy. Of course, that’s not counting the times I find my food through other means,” he smiled devilishly.

Scrooge was stretching, coming back to himself.

“I would do that more often, if I had the time, and if I didn’t have to worry about being caught and paying a large fine.”

“You're a truly unprincipled being, Flinty.”

“You'd do the same thing in my position.” 

“Hmm.”

“But I digress. Let's call it 70 to 80 bags a year that you save me from buying. You see how much you're worth to me?” he wrapped his arm around Scrooge and pulled him close again, giving him a kiss on the head. “You don’t know what it’s like, having to pay for your food.”

Scrooge sat up straight. “Hey now! I pay far too much for food! Have you seen the cost of prunes and crackers these days? It's high robbery, pure and simple!”

Flintheart laughed. “So that's why you leech off your nephew's dinner table? And breakfast table, and lunch--”

“ _ I'm _ the leech in this situation?” Scrooge put his hand to his neck and turned to look at Flintheart's fangs pointedly.

The vampire just stared at him back, smiling. Scrooge’s determination faltered under that gaze, so he simply “hrumph”ed and turned back around to lean against him.

Flintheart put his bill next to Scrooge's neck again. “Let me take one last sip today, Scroogy.”

Scrooge let him. As he bit him,, Flinty heard him mutter, “sometimes I go to Elvira's instead…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (as a side note, if you want more of this type of thing, there's some excellent scrooge, flintheart, and glomscrooge vampire fic and art on tumblr from multiple users if you poke around. it's just. a natural fit i guess?)


	7. Chicken Divination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the fact that ancient Romans used to consult the gods' opinions on their new laws before they were passed by observing chickens.

Donald stopped watching the gladiator movie on TV to instead watch Gyro fiddle with the innards of a radio next to him on the couch, who was clearly more concentrated on that than the TV. He was absorbed in his work, and Donald couldn’t help but smile at the sight.  
“According to the boys’ know-it-all book, the ancient Romans used the activity of chickens to divine the gods’ will.”  
“Oh?” Gyro said, smiling up at Donald for a moment before looking back down at his radio.  
“Mhm,” Donald nodded. He turned fully towards Gyro, swinging his short legs up onto the couch. “I think I ought to try it out.” He lifted his eyes towards the sky. “O, Mighty Jupiter, do you approve of my plans?”   
He then made a show of carefully studying Gyro’s actions, tapping his bill, looking very close, and humming in mock concentration.  
Gyro glanced at him and caught a laugh in his mouth. He stared at his radio, no longer fiddling, and tried to stop smiling so wide. Donald was happy to see Gyro’s face redden.  
“Jupiter has spoken! He clearly approves of my plan.”  
“Your plan?” Gyro was really red now.   
“My plan do this.” Donald leaned forward, hugged Gyro, and kissed him on the cheek.   
Gyro turned and kissed him back on the beak. “And if he hadn’t approved?”  
“Gyro, I don’t think he could’ve shown his disapproval of that particular plan through you. He isn’t powerful enough.”  
“And may he strike me down if I misrepresented him, I don’t care.”  
They kissed again.  
And again.  
The movie, the radio, and Jupiter were all forgotten.


End file.
